As Bonnie tried to make more sense of this situation, she heard a voice to her left. Her feet had no toes either! Her skin was soft and plush, her hair was made up of brown yarn, it all came together now: she was a doll! But how? How could this have happened? This was impossible. What she saw made her eyes widen: there were no fingers on her hands! They were stubby, stubby like a powerpuff girl, or just like Dolly’s!Īs she stood up, she wobbled trying to keep her balance.
She scratched her head in confusion As she tried to figure out what was the cause of this, but she stopped when she double checked. Behind her, her pillow was as big as a small playhouse. Ahead of her view, was her own bedding as big as her backyard. It looked big enough for a fairy tale giant. Sitting up, Bonnie immediately noticed that something was not right here.įor example, her room seemed much bigger than she last saw it. This time she felt like she slept on rocks. Usually she wakes up bright and chipper, made sense since this was the first week of summer vacation. The next morning, Bonnie woke up with an unusual grogginess. It drifted towards the window, inside the room, and floats around until it heads towards Bonnie, illuminating her in yellow-green glow until it just seeps into her body like a drop of water hitting a small puddle! It didn’t have any feeling so she was alright. A cluster of them maybe? No, it was a single tennis ball-sized sphere.
Outside the window, a glowing ball was floating around. So far, nothing bad has ever happened to her aside from all the dangerous missions her toys went through. So they know better than that, they didn’t want their little mistress to spend years in mental therapy. Little did Bonnie know that her toys were secretly alive, but as every toy knows, if they were caught walking and talking on their own, who knows how their owners would react? It ranges from speechless to complete freakout, thinking the toys are possessed. She was all snug as a bug in bed, with one of her favorite toys, dolly, held close to her chest. This was the room of little Bonnie Anderson. In a little yellow house, we zoom in through the window of a child’s bedroom. It was a cool, calm and clear night, and in this suburban neighborhood is where it begins.
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